Let It Burn
by JoMarchWrites
Summary: Some people call her cold and heartless. One man, though, knows her heat, her passion, and her heart. They've been playing with fire for a while now, and they do not plan to extinguish the flame anytime soon. In fact, they're determined to add fuel, to keep it blazing, to let it burn. (Set immediately post season 12 with flashbacks to 1-12)
1. Let It Burn 1

_**My first attempt at writing something like this; feedback is appreciated.**_

_**Law and Order: SVU is the intellectual property of Dick Wolf. No harm or malice is intended in using the characters, settings, and plotline for fictional work. **_

"I don't think she should be here, is what I'm saying." The man scrubbed a hand down his face, cleared his throat, and lowered his voice. "She's been flying off the handle, at least twice a week, ever since…"

"I know." A second man, older and clearly more weathered and weak, sighed as he spoke, and he nodded. "I can't just bench her without due cause. She hasn't hurt…"

"Yet," the first man, a fire in his eyes, sneered as the word left his mouth. "You know I'm right, Captain." He tossed a short look over his shoulder, his gel-curled ponytail swinging and hitting his left ear. He looked back at his captain. "You know she's gonna blow. Any minute."

"Am I?"

Both men turned, meek and mildly embarrassed. They stared at the woman, who looked more intrigued than pissed off.

"Olivia, we were...I was just…uh...well, what we were…"

Her hand shot up and she closed her eyes, while her mouth curled into a tense, tight, grimacing smirk. "Shut it, Fin." She opened her eyes and glared, then, to the older man in the office. "You think I'm not capable of doing my job? You think I've got some sort of issue with...handling this?"

"We think…" the captain began to speak. He scratched his head and pressed his thin lips together, for the first time feeling how dry and chapped they were. "You may need some help...dealing with…"

"What I am dealing with," Olivia interrupted, "has nothing to do with you. Either of you. I deal...just fine...on my own, in my own way, okay? Has it, at all, affected my job? No. Cases get closed, vics get justice, perps get what they deserve, the only thing that's changed is I don't hang around for the personal bullshit afterwards."

Fin, the younger man with the ponytail, folded his arms. "My point," he stated. "You're gone, Liv," he took a step toward her. "You come in, you do your job, you go home. You don't talk to any of us outside of work, you shut me out completely, you don't return anyone's calls, you're…"

"Doing my job," she spat, cutting off whatever nonsense he was about to hand her, which she didn't want to hear. "That's what a job is. Where is it written that I have to be friends with these people?" She squinted her eyes just a bit, a flash of bitterness in them as they pulsed and returned to their former state of solemnity. "What law says I have to have any kind of personal relationship with any of you. Especially you," the venomous words came out without apology. Her blue collared shirt crinkled as she raised her strong arm and pointed at him. "After what you did, you expect me to call you 'friend?"

"What exactly is it you think I did, Liv?" Fin asked her with an obvious cockiness. He dropped his arms to his side, took another step toward her, and let his head drop only an inch to his right. "Tell me."

Olivia gave a sideways glance to Captain Cragen, who'd been nervously watching them battle from behind his desk. She looked back at Fin, lowered her voice, and then said something she had waited almost a year to say.

"He's had your back how many times? How many times did he cover your ass, save you? He went to bat for you, so much so that it almost cost him his job," she railed. "You couldn't do the same for him?" She shook her head with a smile that reeked of bitter sadness and uncomfortable regret. "If that's how you treat your friends, then I sure as fuck don't want to be one of them."

Fin froze. He'd not been expecting that, at all, and her words cut. She was right, but she didn't understand. What he'd said to Internal Affairs was his honest truth, he deeply felt that no detective on the planet could come back from a tragedy such as the one that had torn their unit apart eleven months ago. "Liv, I...please just let me…"

"I'm not the one that needs your explanation," she reposted. She sidestepped him, and then handed Captain Cragen a thin file. "Last one," she hissed. "Can I go now?"

The aging man nodded sadly, wondering where the bright detective he'd hired a decade ago had gone, and he said, "Sure, Liv."

She gave him a curt nod in return and headed out of the office. She turned sharply just as she got to the door. "Oh, and, uh, if either of you feels the need to discuss my emotional state and my ability to do my job, I suggest you take a moment to shove it up your asses."

The men watched her leave, the tension thick in the air, and they were grateful it hadn't been as explosive as it could've been.

Fin was the first to speak. "Yeah so, she's...she's good," he gave with a sheepish nod and pouted bottom lip.

"Yeah," Cragen agreed, flipping open the folder to sign off on the last case of the shift. "You can go, too, Fin." He lowered his eyes to read the printed pages, breathing slowly outward when his office door finally shut.

* * *

><p>"Are you sure you can handle another round, Benson," the man across from her grinned mischievously, and he held a shiny quarter between his fingers.<p>

She licked her lips, eyeing him as would a hungry wolf on the range staring at a buck. "Oh, I can handle anything you give me." She lifted both hands and gestured for him to "bring it," and she cracked her knuckles as he bounced the quarter off of the table.

"Fuck," he spat, pounding a fist onto the hard wood, watching the coin spin on the floor with betrayal. He rolled his neck and raised a shot to his lips, returning her hungry gaze as he downed the spicy, amber liquid.

She chuckled, a sound from low in her throat, as she leaned back, took aim, and let her own quarter fly. It bounced once, then she raised a clenched fist in victory as it clinked off the edge of a glass and plopped into the whisky below.

"Ohh, I am going to be feeling this in the morning," he said with a smile before seething and raising the shot to his mouth. Once again he met her eyes, then closed his own tightly as the liquor burned down his gullet. He slammed the glass down and gasped a bit. "You...are dangerous."

She offered a sultry smile and a crooked eye, then got out of her seat. She rounded the table, raised one leg and lowered herself, straddling him. "This is dangerous," she whispered, with her forehead pressed to his. Her hands raked up his arms and clawed into the sides of his face. Her lips were so close to his, they could taste the whiskey on each other's breath. She rocked into him, taking pride in the elicited moan he gave her.

Here, in the middle of a crowded biker bar a whole state away, they found it easy to play with fire. Each held a match, each was the other's kindling.

He bucked upward as she bit his bottom lip and pulled, a throaty moan of her own escaping. She returned to his lips, her hair cascading around his head, enveloping him in the scent of her shampoo, the feathery strands licking at his skin like cold flames. "Fuck," he spat again, laughing breathlessly as his hands found a home on her ass. He squeezed, pressing her down onto him. "We should take this somewhere else," he warned, "Before we get arrested."

"What time is it?" she asked, ruefully rising off of his lap. Her eyes remained fixed on the bulge in his jeans, following as he got out of the chair.

He tossed some money on their table as he checked his watch. "Eleven-thirty," he said, grabbing her hand. He pulled her through the crowd, not caring if he knocked into anyone. Tonight was not about pleasantries, only pleasure. "When are you on in the morning?" he asked, leading her to his bike.

She tossed her head to and fro a few times to get the hair out of her face, then she put on her helmet and sat on the backmost seat. "Eight," she said.

He put his own helmet on, sat, and revved up the motorcycle. "Hold on," he said, the many meanings of his words not lost on either of them.

She wrapped her arms around him and squeezed as he pulled out of the bar's lot. Her nails, seemingly with minds of their own, raked up and down his stomach as he rode them back across the state line, weaving through the bridge traffic. "You okay, back there, baby?"

"Fuck yeah," she answered, grinning. The wind whirred around her as his speed increased. He navigated the roads expertly, taking their usual Saturday night route back to her place. On the bike, traffic never mattered much. It was easy to pass and avoid getting stuck at lights, which gave them all the extra time they needed.

Almost as soon as his Harley was parked, she was unlocking the front door. The smile never left her face, as they kissed and tripped toward her apartment. She refused to stop kissing him as she struggled to find the key, and she laughed when she felt his hands pawing at her pants. "Can't wait five more minutes?"

"Hell no," he told her, shoving his fingers between her skin and the leather and denim. She moaned, he groaned, and he begged her, "Open the damn door."

They nearly fell when the door opened, and he twisted them, pushing her against the wall. "Thank God I live on the first floor," she mumbled through her clenched teeth. "We'd never make it up the stairs."

"I'd take you," he almost growled, "on the stairs." He pushed a finger through her folds, moaning, and started to twist and thrust as he kicked the door closed.

"Wait," she protested unconvincingly, trying to hit the lightswitch. "I have to...oh, shit," she sighed and shivered.

He had two fingers already inside of her, his teeth gnawing at her neck, her pulse throbbing against them. He silently chuckled when he heard her pants drop to the floor. He used his free hand to shove his own off his hips.

She took the lead, grappling with the fabric of his clothes, pulling at buttons and zippers, not satisfied until he was nude and bathed in the moonlight washing over the room from the window.

He moved his mouth to the other side of her neck, taking in a harsh breath when he felt her wrap her soft hand around his hard cock. "Fuck, baby," he managed to say with her flesh in his mouth, pushing another long and thick digit into her. His left hand yanked at her shirt, tearing it open, and he worked the front clasp of her bra open. He kissed his way across her decolletage, the top of her breasts, and finally sucked one perked and pink nipple into his mouth.

The action made her moan and curse, made her hand move faster as it pulled and tugged on his thick length. He growled before lifting her up and slamming her into the wall again. The pictures rattled and the two shared a laugh. He let his teeth pinch and pull her nipple, making her seethe, before he raised his head and looked into her eyes. He held her stare, his smirk only growing more wicked, and he pulled his fingers out of her wet heat. He braced himself, one hand against the wall the other around her waist.

She linked her ankles at his back, pulling him closer, both hands flying to clutch his face the way they'd done in the bar. She kissed him hard as he thrust, impaling her, and moved fast, their skin making loud slapping sounds.

He was ruthless tonight, claiming her, fucking her, though he hated calling it that. He slammed into her hard, and stayed there as he tried to carry her toward her bed. Sloppily kissing her and almost dropping her a few times, he made it, and they fell, still connected, onto the mattress.

He grabbed her wrists and pulled them over her head, holding her down as he sped up, ramming harder, owning her. He lowered his head, looked into her eyes, and winked at her before kissing her, making her his. He mumbled something, her mouth swallowed it, but she nodded, understanding him.

Together, they reached bliss, her name being pulled from his throat violently, and his rolling off her tongue like a desperate prayer. He kept plunging, long after he came, bringing her to the brink once more and loving watching her fall over. He laughed as he kissed her, his hands still holding her wrists, and her heart thudded against her chest, in time with his,

"Fuck," he snorted, dropping to the side and pulling her over, settling her on top of him.

"Yeah," she exhaled, breathing fast. "We did."

He gave her ass a thwap, chiding her for calling it what it was, because the callousness of it was ingratiating. "Did not," he countered, kissing her.

She laughed and collapsed onto his chest. "Three minutes," she said.

"Two," he said, feeling his cock already twitching at the thought of being inside her again. "There's, uh, there's something I gotta tell ya."

She couldn't find the strength to lift her head, she simply hummed.

He tried to quell the drumming in his chest, but he couldn't. He looked down at the clock on the nightstand, and he closed his eyes. "One in the morning," he croaked. "Motherfucker." He took in a slow breath, catching the gleam shimmering off of the gold band on his left hand. "It can wait," he said, shaking the brief pang of guilt off as he curled his arms under her elbows and pulled her up onto him. "Everything," he whispered against her lips, "can wait for you, Liv." He kissed her harder than he had all night, and he worked his way back into her, this time giving her the reins, giving her control.

As she grinned and moved faster, he realized, the control had been hers all along.

_**I would love some reviews, and I do have a few more parts of this I would like to post soon. **_

_**Peace & Love**_

_**Jo**_


	2. Let It Burn 2

_**Part two: recklessness**_

_**Law and Order: SVU is the intellectual property of Dick Wolf. The use of the characters, settings, and plotlines is not malicious. This is a work of fiction.**_

The way her body slammed against the plaster, the way he growled when he tore her silk panties away from her hot flesh, and the way she didn't mind, sent shivers coursing through her.

There was nothing elegant or romantic about this; this was pure, primal need.

"Does your partner know where you are?" he asked her, his teeth grazing the small patch of visible skin on her neck.

"Does yours?" she countered slyly, one bare leg raised and hooked around his hip.

He grunted and grabbed her ass, then slammed her against the wall again, paint chips falling to the grungy motel room's dingy carpet. "Fuck no," he laughed, then impatiently thrust hard, already moving his hips in a rapid and rough tempo. The way he rolled upward with each deep dive into her made them both moan and rip ferociously at each other.

"Fuck," she hissed, her talon-like nails leaving red lines down his back. She threw her head back with a hearty, throaty laugh, digging her fingers into his shoulder blades.

It spurred him, seemingly commanding him to go faster, harder. "You drive me fucking crazy," he whispered into her ear before darting his tongue out to glide over the curves and crevices of it. "You know you do."

Her answer was a moan and a soft growl. Her hands moved down his spine and she dug into the tense, pulsing muscles of his ass, gasping as he pumped into and out of her. "Do I?" she teased.

He chuckled, it sounded menacing, and he said, "When I look at you, no matter where we are, I just can't wait to get you alone..." he nipped at her earlobe and his thick, strong hands gripped the sides of her body, pinning her to the cream-colored wall. "Spread your thighs...taste you...feel you..." He moved her up a bit, lifting her higher in order to take her from a new angle, the whole room trembling with each powerful pump of his body against hers.

Thier pernicious actions left broken lamps and picture frames in its wake. Neither of them cared, letting the destruction around them happen.

"Fuck, baby, oh my God," her words escaped through a thin separation between her lips. He was making every cell in her body scream, and she was struggling to hold on to the little restraint she had left. She needed to wait for him.

He grabbed a few locks of her hair and tugged hard, causing her head to fall to the side. He bit her neck and suckled, making her moan his name in a gravelly whisper. He pulled his mouth from her pulse with a pop. "I love when you look at me, and you know I'm thinking about how hard I'm going to fuck you, how badly I need to be deep...so deep inside you, and need to feel your teeth on my skin. The way you flush when you realize what I'm thinking, the way I know your pussy clenches with the same thoughts."

His claim on her, they both knew, was so much more than physical. He owned her, in every way, and she owned him. "Fuck, fuck, fuck," she said, each curse punctuated by his thrust, the feeling of his girth and length hitting parts of her she wasn't aware existed until their first tryst.

"Give it to me," she demanded of him, her nails scratching their way back up his spine, bloody marks forming along their route.

He gave it to her, alright. Everything he had, harder, faster, violent thrusts and unholy curses which left his lips between scurrilous moans of her name. "Cum," he ordered. "Fucking cum. Now. Baby, now. Fucking cum."

When he gave a command, she obeyed. Her body went totally rigid, her back arched, her hands grappled with the skin of his back and she lost every bit of awareness and sense she had.

Her gasps and whimpers fueled him, giving him the burst of energy he needed to slam into her twice more. He stilled, remaining as deep inside of her as he could be. He felt her vibrate around him, her body undulated against his and their hearts raced at the same sonic speed. His eyes rolled all the way back and his jaw dropped, releasing a low groan of pleasure as he spurted hotly into her.

They remained there, against the wall, shirts on and pants off, for a full minute. They were slowly kissing, languidly letting their pulses calm and their body temperatures cool. Without a word, he pulled out of her, grinning when he felt their combined juices trailing down his thigh as he did so. He licked his lips as he watched her flushed and hot face contort into a sexy smirk, and he bent to pick up her black slacks and his blue jeans.

She laughed softly as he helped her into them, and she sultrily zipped up his jeans, purposefully grazing his still semi-hard cock through the denim. "Already?" she queried, a crooked smile and raised brow betraying her own remaining arousal.

"Please," he scoffed. "Around you, I'm always rock-hard and fucking ready." He kissed her, hard. His tongue swooping over hers, dancing, trailing along her teeth. He bit her lip and pulled back, and then winked at her.

Her breath hitched in her throat. "You, uh...last night, you were gonna tell me something?"

He nodded, kissed her again, and smoothed out his shirt. "Not now, okay, babe?" He grabbed his wallet and her gun off of the floor where they'd fallen, and he handed the black metal weapon to her. "Be careful, tonight."

She nodded and kissed him slowly, hoping emotions could be passed to him as the words remained unsaid. "You, too," she said, raking her fingers through her hair.

He grabbed her arm and roughly pulled her toward him for one more kiss. When it broke, they walked out of the filthy motel room and down the hall, unable to fully wipe the satisfied and smug expressions off of their faces.

* * *

><p>She walked back into the squad room and was greeted with the pleasant faces of Fin and Munch, who looked like they'd rather be getting tetanus shots than be there. "What am I missing?" she asked, crossing her arms.<p>

"You okay?" Munch asked, seeing the disheveled state of her clothes and the bruising on her neck.

"Fine," she nodded. "What's up with you two?"

Fin exhaled and leaned back in his chair. "Hansen from the Three-Oh is taking a month off to have surgery."

"He's getting hair plugs, not having a lung transplant," Munch quipped. "Don't make it sound serious."

Olivia rolled her eyes. "Okay, you're upset about his tragic hairline, why?"

Fin folded his arms. "One of us has to fill in since they're short staffed." He glared at Munch. "Our pal John, over there, volunteered us because he thinks we have plenty of manpower."

"Well, hey," Olivia said, feeling her skin chafe against her pants, remembering her underwear were mere shreds on the floor of room seventy-one at the Southside Motel. "At least one of you gets to see..."

"You," Fin interrupted. "Cragen's sending you." He ran a hand over his scruffy chin. "I don't want to see..."

"Oh, of course you don't," Olivia said, snapping, her anger rising too fast for her liking after such a blissful lunch hour. "You're the reason he isn't here. The reason none of us have heard from him, the reason he hasn't stepped foot in this building in almost a year!"

Fin shot out of his seat. "Man, Liv, leaving was his choice!"

Olivia snorted. "He quit because you told Tucker it would be bad for everyone if he came back to work! You actually told Ed Tucker that you thought Elliot was unstable and would put us all in danger! He didn't want to quit, Tucker told him to either leave or he'd be transferred to..."

"Stop yelling," Cragen's voice stopped the fighting and at once three heads turned in his direction. "It was my call. No one else's. I agreed with Fin, coming back into this room would have not been the best thing for him. For any of us." He looked at Olivia. "You'll be with him, one month, Homicide Division out of the Thirtieth."

Olivia closed her eyes. She wasn't sure if working with her old partner would be wise, especially if it was only temporary. "Yeah," she said, feeling the color drain from her face.

Cragen pointed at the door. "Go," he said. "And tell him I'm sorry about Kathy."

Olivia's eyes glazed over with confusion. Her lips turned downward into a determined but sour frown. She grabbed something off of her desk and headed out of the room, a million questions dancing in her head and hoping by the time she made it to the Three-Oh, she would have the balls to ask them.

_**Please, feel free to leave your reviews, and hopefully you stay with me until the end. Thank you. **_

_**Peace and Love**_

_**Jo**_


	3. Let It Burn 3

_**Part three: back in the game**_

_**Law and Order: SVU is the intellectual property of Dick Wolf. The use of the characters, settings, and plotlines is not malicious. This is a work of fiction.**_

She was unable to formulate a coherent thought the entire drive to the Three-Oh. Her brain fired every synapse at once and her musings and worries jumbled together and overlapped, leaving her unsure of which she felt more: confusion or relief.

She was saved from deciding; her feet carried her through the revolving door, and mechanically she held up her badge to bypass the security checkpoints. She seemed to run on muscle memory, going where she was needed without realizing, without knowing.

Her gaze fixed on absolutely nothing, in a daze, she made a sharp left turn into the hallway of the precinct's homicide division.

She snapped out of her fog momentarily to look toward the captain's office door, but when she opened her mouth to speak, she lost control again.

He was there. Two feet and five inches away from her, yet the distance between them was much greater than that. At least, in this situation.

She looked him up and down, taking in his form, his body language. She swallowed the lump in her throat as she noticed the way every muscle in his body twitched beneath his clothes, asking her to come closer, beckoning her, and making her too weak to refuse.

He caught her eyes and he smiled, a warm but wary grin. "Hey, Benson," he said, a low whisper with traces of several other emotions lingering on the edges of his words.

Tears stung at the backs of her eyes, her nose tingled, but she managed to smile back. It had been so long since he called her that. Since he referred to her as his partner. "Hey, Stabler."

He reached out, giving her barely a moment to react, and pulled her into a tight embrace.

She closed her eyes and relaxed into him, now sure of how this would be handled, and she let her shaking hands splay over his back.

He made an almost inaudible noise as he squeezed her tighter, the same emotions coursing through her were filtering through him. He was home.

She heard him inhale, knew he was breathing her in, and she smiled. When she pulled away from him, she rubbed her eyes and laughed at her sensitivity. "So...uh...was this your idea?"

His response was a smirk and a wink, all the confession she needed.

She rolled her eyes. Deep down, she knew that this was somehow his doing. "So, uh. What have we...what have we got?"

He reached over, deliberately brushing against her, and grabbed a file off of the corner of the desk behind her. "Current case," he said, and then he folded his arms. He cleared his throat. "I needed you with me on this...for a reason. Well, a lot of reasons, but..." He shrugged and licked his lips.

"El," she said, reading the coffee stained, cigarette burned pages, "Are you sure this is accurate? I mean, what are the odds that..."

"We had him once," he interrupted. "And when I got him in the cage, he asked where you were. He remembered you. And me. He remembered that you are with me. Were. With me. Working with me."

"Elliot!" she chided, looking at him as though he'd begun juggling flaming chainsaws. "I get it." She closed the folder and plopped it back onto the cluttered desk at her side. "What are you so nervous about? It's me, El. Just me."

"Yeah," he said softly, looking into her brown eyes. "It's you. Always has been, always will be."

She made sort of a croaking noise and rolled the sudden tension out of her neck. "What's our first move?"

He stared at her for a moment, contemplating how he should answer her. "Well, honestly, could we take a..."

Her cell phone rang and cut their conversation short. She held up a finger and dug into her pocket. She flicked her finger over the screen of the device and raised it to her ear, her eyes still on Elliot. "Benson," she spat. "Oh. Hi," she squeezed her eyes shut for a second and sat on the edge of the desk. "No, uh...no. Not tonight, I just got handed a new...yeah, some other time."

Elliot's nostrils flared, and when she put her phone back in her pocket, he let a curse unwittingly fly. "What the hell was that? A date?"

Stunned, Olivia reared back and crossed her arms. A smug expression crept over her face and she grinned. "Yes. Why, is that a problem? We haven't been..."

"You know why," he said gruffly, stepping closer to her.

Chuckling almost evilly, she looked into his narrowed eyes and said, "Calm down. You know why, don't you?" She scraped her teeth over her lower lip. "Jealous, Stabler?"

He returned her wicked grin, shaking his head.

"Oh," she said dropping her hands to her hips. "Cragen wanted me to offer his sympathy...ya know...Kathy."

Elliot paled. His body stiffened. His eyes widened. "Liv, I..." His mouth closed and he brought his hand up to his forehead, unsure of what to say.

"Yeah," she said, still smirking. "Guess we both have a few secrets."

He looked at her with a steamy expression, and she couldn't decide if it was anger or lust. She gave him a reassuring smile, with a flick of her hair, and she said, "You were saying? What play are we running here?"

"Liv," he said, seriousness darkening his face. "That's a really good question."

_**Please feel free to leave feedback. Any questions this chapter has risen will be answered in the next.**_

_**Peace and Love**_

_**Jo**_


	4. Let It Burn 4

**_Part four: disassociation_**

**_Law and Order: SVU is the intellectual property of Dick Wolf. The use of the characters, settings, and plotlines is not malicious. This is a work of fiction._**

"Coercion?" Olivia asked, looking at Elliot, perplexed, as she jabbed her fork into his French fries.

He nodded as he chewed. He downed a third of his beer in one long sip, let out a refreshed sigh, and said, "That's what Langan argued. Hamilton didn't want to give a jury that kind of ammo, so he dropped the charges. He's kicking himself in the ass, now, knowing he let the bastard back out onto the streets and someone's dead."

Olivia handed Elliot her sandwich and watched with a smile as he bit it. "You don't coerce people, El. Convince, yes. Scare? Fuck yes. But coerce? Not once, the entire time I've known you."

"Oh, I'm pretty sure I've coerced you to do a thing or two," he said, winking. He took another bite of her sandwich, licked his lips, and then grabbed a pepper off of her plate. He popped it into his mouth, then slid his plate in her direction.

"No," she said, grinning. "I didn't need much arm twisting, El." She laughed, biting into one of his fries, and sighed as she chewed. "So where does that leave us? We can't exactly barge into the fucker's office and drag him down to the station by his Calvin Kleins."

"Well," he said, drawing it out, afraid to broach the topic. "That's why you're here, Liv."

She shot him a questioning glance as she stole the pickle off of his plate.

He chuckled, hiding a subtle sound of arousal at her stare. "Hamilton knows the coercion charge was bullshit. And we nailed him a few times, you and me, but nothing ever stuck. So I had Morales do a little digging…you're not gonna like this…"

"Tell me." She bit into his pickle, the juices ran slowly over her bottom lip and almost made it to her chin.

He watched, fixated on her tongue as it darted out and slowly caught the tangy droplets before they escaped. He closed his eyes and cleared his throat. "Stop," he warned.

"Stop? What am I doing?" she asked, honestly wondering.

He shifted in his seat, his eyes shooting daggers at her, making his point. "Driving me crazy," he returned.

She smirked, then purposely took a more seductive bit of his pickle.

"You're killing me, you know that, don't you?" he said, whimpering. He, again, cleared his throat, and said, "He asked me if anyone from SVU would be willing to go halfsies on this, considering we could build a stronger case if we combined the priors. When my partner decided to join the Hair Club for Men, it left an opening to…"

"Kill two birds with one stone?" she finished for him. "You could have…"

"Munch offered," he interrupted. "But I wanted…you." He met her eyes and his tone grew serious. "I always want you."

She choked on her fry, and she chugged the rest of her beer. Calm now, she looked intently at him. "What did Cragen mean? He's sorry about Kathy?"

Elliot paled. He rolled his eyes and he shook slightly as he kotted his hands. "I was going to tell you. I was. I just…I didn't know how…without sounding like I wanted…"

"Do you?" she asked, already knowing the rest of his statement. "Because if you didn't, she'd still be…"

"No, she wouldn't, Liv," he interrupted yet again. He shook his head vehemently and signaled the waiter for the check. "That…has been over for years. We held on until the twins were out of high school, but there was nothing there, you know that. You know." He took a shaky breath and then said, "Besides, I was tired. It was too much fucking work, but…it came so easy with you. It is always…so easy with you. Do you really think either of us deserved to keep going on like that?"

She shrugged as she sipped the last of her beer. "We've done it for twelve years," she said, raising an eyebrow. "Why change anything now?"

"Before…" he paused, and then reached over the table for her hand. He took it, knowing they were in the safe shadows of Jersey. "After Jenna, after I left the unit…I realized…what if it was me? What if I lived my last day…took my last breath…without ever really letting the thing…the fire between us…" he stopped, almost choking on his words. "I don't want to die, Liv. No one does. But I…I don't want to be left with 'what if' and have my one regret in this being too afraid to…love…"

"Don't." Her word was sharp. Final. "Not here. Not now. Just…don't." She tossed down a twenty dollar bill and stood up. "We have work to do. When it's over, and I'm back at the One-Six, and not…working…"

"Please," he said, rolling his eyes dramatically. "When has that ever stopped us?"

She smiled, laughing at their predicament, and she nodded. "Can we just…later, okay?"

He nodded back and got up, picking up the money she dropped and throwing a fifty dollar bill in its place. He folded the twenty, then slipped it salaciously into her back pocket. "Later," he confirmed. He winked, giving her ass a light squeeze, and he took his hand back, walking with her back into the midday rush, back into their groove, trying to disassociate himself from the thoughts and worries plaguing him.

He wasn't surprised at how quickly they fell back into an easy coexistence in the field. They managed to be a perfect blend of professional and terribly flirty, kidding and teasing but not dropping the ball or losing sight of the task at hand. They poked and filtered their way through an exacerbating pile of files and wheedled out the nonsense, losing track of time as they talked to each other the way they used to, over large cups of coffee and torn notebook pages.

Olivia felt her mind wandering, the small printed letters of the file in her hands blurring, the words no longer being recgognized. Something Elliot had said during lunch was still ringing in her ears.

Love

It wasn't something she was ready to hear; she stopped him from even really saying it. It was something she thought she had heard him say once before, a long time ago, and she'd assumed his feelings had changed by now. Or...at the very least, she assumed feelings no longer really mattered. She squeezed the bridge of her nose tightly as the memory came flooding back to her, in vivid, high definition technicolor.

_"Bremmer was hitting on you." His eyes were cold, a dark blue with icicle white flashing in them._

_"Are you out of your mind?" She tried to return his coolness, but the fire building up laid claim._

_He smirked. "You didn't notice?"_

_She shook her head. "I noticed our vic...missing his cigar," she told him, sipping her coffee. "I noticed you playing with that gold ring on your finger every five minutes. Hell, I even noticed Cassidy staring at my ass when he came in this morning. I did not notice Bremmer flirting with me."_

_"He was," his nostrils flared and his brow furrowed._

_She smirked, and knowing they were alone in the squad room, she moved toward him. With one hand wrapped around her coffee cup and the other sliding up and over his shoulder, she said, "Even if he was, why does it concern you?"_

_He grabbed her hand abruptly, turned his head up to look at her, and the frigidity in his eyes had warmed over. Somberly, he said, "You don't know?"_

_She shook her head slowly, biting her lip. Her heart stopped when she noticed him pulling her down, closer to him, and when their lips were just barely brushing, he whispered to her. She could feel his mouth forming the words, could feel the heat from his breath mingling with hers as she heard him say, "I love..."_

"Hey!"

His sharp cutting shout snapped her out of her daydream, her memory. "Huh?"

"Where'd you go?" Elliot asked her, a closed file in his hands.

"Just thinking," she replied, her bottom lip caught between her teeth. "Hey, El, do you wanna get outta here? I think...we should talk."

He grinned. He nodded and got out of his chair, then held his hand out for her.

She took it, smiling. "The sedan?" she asked, grabbing her jacket.

"No," he said, a determined and somewhat wild look in his eyes. "The bike."

**_Reviews are more than appreciated. Thank you for reading._**

**_Peace and Love_**

**_Jo_**


	5. Let It Burn 5

**_Part five: culpability_**

**_Law and Order: SVU is the intellectual property of Dick Wolf. The use of the characters, settings, and plotlines is not malicious. This is a work of fiction._**

_"How long you been sleeping with Cassidy?" The question came out of his mouth like venom, poisonous with intent to kill._

_She was taken aback at first, and embarrassed. Terrified he would ask why, and not sure she would be able to admit her reason. "Uh, I'm not."_

_"Your stomach just dropped two floors, Olivia. The unconscious does not lie." He leaned closer, goading her, waiting._

_"I'm not lying." She caught his eyes, began to flush, and looked away. She hated herself. Hated herself for letting it happen with Cassidy because she wanted to prove she was capable of a relationship that didn't involve Elliot. If he could go home to his wife, she could go home to whomever, whenever. She cleared her throat and looked back at him. "Not much." She bit her lip, picked at the skin around her fingernails. "_

Is it that obvious?"

He looked into her eyes. Something between sorrow and hate was hidden in the shades of blue. "I'm your partner.

For better or worse." He tried to smile. "

Everybody knows too much about everybody else in this office, anyway."

_"I broke a rule, Elliot a personal one, and now he wants to see me again." She was praying he would let it go. That he wouldn't bring up rules, and the number of times she'd broken the same one. With him._

_He tried yet again to smile, and this time he managed a small one. "Can you blame him?" He hoped she would understand. That his words were not meant for Cassidy, but for himself._

_" I can't do it right now." She watched the relief wash over his face, and it gave her hope. Not a lot. Some. Enough. " _

_I didn't mean for this... I mean, I guess you never do..."_

_He interrupted her. "Sometimes you do." His eyes bore into hers, heat and meaning passing from his to hers. He saw the way her pupils dilated and the way her back straightened. He knew she understood him. " _

_Be nice to him. Maybe even over-nice. _

_He'll be cold, but he'll get over it." He was staking his claim, planting his flag. He was, and she knew it. "_

_It happens."_

_She looked at him, a question forming in her head but afraid to be birthed on her lips. "Really?"_

_The way he nodded, she realized he didn't mean for himself. Elliot would never get over it, and would always be the one she'd go back to, home to. "Really." He tells her almost telepathically that he understands, and he forgives her. Not that she needs forgiveness. "_

_Cragen's waiting for us."_

_"_Liv?"

His voice broke through the bittersweet recollection, pulling her back to the harsh reality of midnight in Manhattan. "I'm okay."

"I know you well enough to know that's bullshit," he said, stepping through the glass doors onto the balcony beside her. "What's the matter?"

"I was just..." she paused. She turned to look at him and crossed her arms, in both defense against her emotions and the chill. "What happens now?"

He sighed and took a peek over the ledge, wondering what kind of person would still have the energy to be out and about in the city at close to one in the morning. "Now...we go back into your apartment, where it's warm, and go back to bed."

"You know what I mean," she said, eyeing him seriously. "We've been...playing this game, Elliot." She dropped her elbows to the bannister, her head in her hands as she stared blankly at the skyline. "Who could make whom jealous, who would crack first, how far could we get..." she stopped again. She swallowed hard and took another breath, but it still felt like she was suffocating. "You always went home to her, I always found Mr. Right Now. We never thought..."

"You never thought it would be more?" he asked, honestly surprised. He joined her at the ledge, wrapping his arms around her and resting his chin atop her head. "I never thought it wouldn't." He kissed the back of her head, then the nape of her neck, and he felt her shudder and grinned. "You and me, this was always what I wanted. When it was right."

"And is it?" she asked him, turning fast in his arms. "Because we don't work together anymore? Because she's gone? Because I..."

"Liv," he cut her off and rubbed his chapped fingers over his stubble-speckled face. "It's right, okay? Why does it matter what the reasons are, or what propelled this forward, huh? We are here, now, where I think we should be, and I'm not about to take ten steps backward, so either you're with me on this, and we figure it the fuck out, or we're done, because I can't stand the thought of having to walk away again."

Her throat burned when she swallowed. Her eyes stung with the desire to cry, but the tears wouldn't come. "I felt guilty, you know."

He rolled his eyes. "We had nothing to..."

"Not...not you. Not that," she raised a hand as the other feathered through her hair. "When I slept with Cassidy," she said, and hearing it out loud made her queasy. "When I slept with anyone...who wasn't you. I hated them in the morning, I hated myself, and I hated you." She slapped one hand to her chest, her heart throbbing with a deep ache as she spoke. "I felt guilty for trying to...trying like hell to get over you. That isn't normal! That's not right! I should have been feeling guilty for being the other woman, for stealing another woman's husband, for letting you be such a fucking bastard and not stopping it!" She shook her head and looked at him, color gone from her cheeks and red in the eyes. "I felt so guilty...because I didn't feel guilty at all."

He reached both hands out, running them along the length of her arms, then pulled her back toward him. "Thank God for that," he said lightly, with a small laugh. "That means...you know what that means."

She pressed her head into his chest as she nodded. "I don't know how to do this...with you," she admitted. "I've never had to...I mean, you would always just...go. With anyone else, I was never invested, I knew it was temporary, he was never the one, ya know?" Her eyes flitted from his lips to his brow and back again, studying his face. "With you...I...I've always been afraid to lose you, El. It's worse now."

He drew closer to her, placed a small kiss on the tip of her nose, and whispered, "You're never gonna lose me, Liv. I'm asking...I'm asking you to...hold on a little tighter now, that's all. No more games, no more dates, no more leaving in the morning or the middle of the night." He kissed her gently, his lips lingering on hers, brushing softly against them as he spoke. "Nothing else has to change. It's us. Like it's always been."

She wasn't aware how, couldn't find the source of the impetus, but she moved forward, pressing her lips to his. She gripped his thick arms as their kiss grew, deepened, and she willingly moved when he urged her body backward, tugging her through the glass panes and into the bedroom. She felt the shift in the universe as he fell onto the bed, pulling her on top of him. Her world was different now.

He grunted softly, nipping at her lips as he flipped them over and wriggled them into the center of the bed. He fumbled blindly for her hands, knotting their fingers and dragging her arms over her head. He slanted his mouth over hers, holding both of her wrists tightly with one hand as his other worked to pull off his boxers. He peppered her neck and chin with tiny kisses as he thrust hard, then grinned devilishly when her head arched backward.

For the first time in over a decade, she knew there was no rush, there was no need to feel anything but him. Them. "El," she whispered, trying to open her eyes, afraid to see what would be there staring back at her.

"Look at me," he encouraged, willing her to take the risk, the plunge. He kissed her neck, unknowingly finding the lump in her throat, and whispered against her skin, "Please, baby."

She took a breath, and when she felt him hit her deeper, her eyes fluttered open and she met his gaze. She knew, looking at him, that he was just as pained and conflicted as she was, this was new for him, too. She scraped her nails up his back, scratching, engraving her soul into the deepest parts of him. She arched her back and rolled her hips, aching for more of him now that he was hers and no one else's.

He groaned as his muscles tightened; he felt every inch of him encased by her, feeling, for once, the plenitude that came with fully giving himself to her, and having her in return. He was whole now.

She wanted him to move harder, deeper, as she clutched him. She gouged shallow tunnels along his spine and clawed into his shoulder blades. He wanted her to hold on tighter, and she was. She bit lightly at his earlobe as she wound her legs around him, pulling him, seeking atonement for every torrid, evanescent moment of the last ten years. She was determined, now, to live with him on more perennial terms, no matter how afraid or anxious she became.

He tightened his grip on her, in every sense, the knuckles of his hand around her wrists turning white as his other hand alternated between nipples, pinching and rolling. He moaned different variants of her name as he eased closer to climax, working harder to bring her with him, sweat glimmering on his chest and back.

With her legs around his back, her nails entrenched in his shoulders, she returned every moan, his name on her lips, and she finally let her stubborn tears fall.

Her clenching walls, combined with the beautiful noises emanating from her, lit a fire in him and he drove into her harder, as if physically trying to force any fear or doubt from her being. He buried himself in her, to the hilt, and came hard, stilling and spilling as he gave a gravelly curse and one last cry of her name.

She shivered and trembled against him, his orgasm bringing on another for her, her body curled around his.

Calming, they flattened and relaxed into the mattress. She let him roll them over once more, her body splayed over his,her head against his chest. She heard his heartbeat drumming beneath his skin, the rhythm loud in her ear. She smiled and closed her eyes when she realized his tempo matched his.

"Liv?" he whispered into the dark, still panting.

"Hmm," she responded, her fingertips trailing languidly up and down his chest.

He sniffled, thankful it was pitch black. He looped one arm around her and brought his other hand up to wipe the tears out of his eyes before they could even spill out. "Can I say it?"

Her heart stopped, then, and her body froze. "What?" she asked, knowing, but trying to fight off the hysterics and trepidation; she had waited for so long to hear him say it.

He took a breath, he moved his hands to her face and cupped her cheeks, and brought her lips a centimeter from his. He stared into her eyes, seeing the mixed emotions and remaining tears. "Liv, baby, I..."

A shrill sound broke through the thick tension and steam heat in the bedroom. His cell phone. His words would have to wait.

**_Thank you for reading. Feedback is welcome and adored._**

**_Peace and Love_**

**_Jo_**


	6. Let It Burn 6

_**Part 6: disclosure and discourse**_

_**Law and Order: SVU is the intellectual property of Dick Wolf. The use of the characters, settings, and plotlines is not malicious. This is a work of fiction.**_

_She opened the door, surprised, and the way he looked at her made her weak in the knees. "Hey, one of your neighbors let me in." Because he had spent so many nights there, they recognized him. He saw the look she was giving him in return and added, "I was in the neighborhood. Thought I'd give you a lift."_

_She rolled her eyes at him. "Elliot, what's going on? Last night Munch offered to give me a lift home."_

_He raised one eyebrow and cleared his throat as he stepped into her apartment. "Munch did that?" He was trying to ignore the tightening of his pants, trying not to imagine the way her body looked underneath the white tank top she was wearing._

_"Yeah. That's not like him, is it?" She grabbed her keys and took a sip of freshly poured orange juice as she skillfully put her blazer on with one hand, not dropping or spilling anything. "And then this morning you're offering to drive me to work." She tilted her head when he took the glass from her and drank. She smiled at how normal it seemed, how comfortable. "In the neighborhood?"_

_"I was." He licked his lips, then handed her glass back to her. He watched her bring it to her lips, wishing he could kiss her at that moment. _

_As she sipped, she gave him a knowing grin. "Uh-huh. You have the sedan with you?"_

_"Yep." He nodded as he, again, drank her orange juice. He knew what was coming. _

_She stared at him, feeling a few things she refused to really acknowledge. "Which means that you drove all the way uptown from the Queensboro Bridge, dropped off the car, picked up the sedan, turned around, all the way back downtown to get here. That's a lot of neighborhood, my friend." _

_The way she said that word. Friend. It felt like someone filled his lungs with cotton balls. "Stop acting like a cop." It came out more irritated than he meant it, but he was hiding his fear. He needed to be with her, by her side. He would do anything and everything to protect her, and he hoped, one day she would let him._

_"Mmm-hmm, that's what Richard White wants me to do." She tried to hide the fear that ran deep beneath her humor and jest, but she knew he could tell. He could always tell. "Look, I appreciate everyone's concern, but we don't know that White's coming for me. He may have gone out of town." She took a sip of her orange juice, hoping her nonchalaant act was fooling Elliot, since she wasn't fooling herself, about anything._

_"Okay," he said, chuckling to himself, resisting the urge to pull her into his arms and keep her there until there was no doubt Richard White was gone for good._

_A moment passed; they stared at each other, both knowing something serious was happening between them and both trying like hell to ignore it. She swatted him in the arm to ease the tension. "I sure as hell wouldn't drive to Queens to save your ass."_

_"Yeah, you would." He knew she loved him, and one day he would get her to tell him._

_"Well, maybe," she paused for a moment, wanthing to tell him why, admit it, make it real_. _Then it hit her; he would never really be hers, so it was best to keep her emotions out of it. "...but that's only because you have a wife and kids."_

_He flinched. A brief pang of guilt hit him. He sighed, "Yeah."_

_She looked at him, sadly but with passionate heat and something unreadable in her eyes. "Yeah," she said. She needed to have him, keep him, in any and every way she could, or she would never make it. _

"Are you gonna answer your phone?" he asked, snapping her back to the present moment. He was annoyed, hearing it vibrate in her pocket for what seemed like the fifth time in an hour.

She shook her head lightly, both telling him she wasn't going to answer and trying to shake off the afterthoughts her memory. "It's Fin," she told him. "I have nothing to say to him."

He eyed her, sideways, trying to pay attention to the road at the same time. "What happened?"

"Nothing," she sighed. "It's what didn't happen."

"What?" he said, confused. He turned the wheel and pulled the car into an empty space in the dark lot. He parked, shifting the gear, and turned to look at her. "Explain."

"No," she said. "I'm not bringing it up. Not now. We're doing pretty good right now, and I don't want..."

"Oh, now you have to tell me," he spat, grabbing her arm to keep her from getting out of the car. He ignored the flashing lights and loud drone of people talking; the scene could wait, she was more important.

She eyed him for a second, then sighed. "They...all... turned on you," she whispered. "Fin was the one who told Cragen that you were a liability. That we would all be at risk if you..."

"Yeah, Liv...I knew that," he nodded glumly. "That's no reason to..."

"And he's been on my case about working with other people. He tried to..." she choked back a sob. "He tried to convince Cragen to fire me the other day."

He wasn't aware he had been holding his breath until she put her hand on his shoulder. He exhaled and turned red with anger. Speaking through gritted teeth, he said. "He's dead."

"Drop it," she demanded. "I still have a job." She looked down and peeled an errant purple thread off of her black pants. "But, uh, it's kind of...because of you." She looked up at him. "When you left the unit, I just...I can't work with anyone else, you know that. You've always known that."

"So because you work solo, they have to..."

"Fin's pissed because I am not the same warm and fuzzy Olivia," she explained, cutting him off. "And I won't socialize. He doesn't care that I have someone I need to be with after dealing with that bullshit all fucking day! He doesn't understand that I'm not...God, I am so fucking pissed at him. At all of them."

He studied her for a moment, his eyes traveling over the crisp black suit and purple shirt that clung to her body in the most amazing way. "Liv," he said, grinning, "You, uh, you were never that warm and fuzzy."

She blinked once, almost hurt. She saw him wink and she relaxed. "You know what I meant."

He reached for her hand, taking a chance on a tender moment. "You don't owe them anything," he began, "But you don't need to shut them out for me."

"El," she gave his hand a squeeze, "It's not just for you. This whole...thing...with Jenna, you leaving, it brought out a lot of honest feelings, a lot of truth that...I see people for who they really are, now, and I know that the only real friend I ever had there...was you."

"Friend?" he asked, as if she'd just yanked his heart out through his throat. "Fucking hell, Liv, I am trying so..."

"God, El!" she cut in. "Can you try not to read into every little thing I am saying, right now?" A tear fell and she sniffled. "I was generalizing! I was telling you that...yeah, you're more than a friend, so much more, but there...no one else was every really concerned. Not even...not even Cragen." She laughed when she realized she was actually crying. She rubbed her eyes with the back of her hand and shook her head. "God, if the man ever really gave a damn about me, he would have never let you..."

"He didn't let me..."

"Why didn't you tell me?" she asked, suddenly veering off of the path and swerving into personal territory. "I could have...would have done something. I lost a pretty big part of who I was when you left."

He took a deep breath and, again, reached for her hand, and said, "I never left you. Just the job." He lifted his other hand and swiped at a tear that had managed to survive the journey to her cheek. "I will never leave you." He saw the flash of emotion in her eyes, the way she flinched slightly when he brushed his thumb over her lips. "Is that why you're not letting me make more of this...us...than there is?"

"We have to go in there, El, the coroner has..."

"Answer me," he demanded, gripping her chin lightly with three fingers and turning her head toward him.

She gulped and blinked away one last tear, then took a shaky breath. "Yeah," she admitted. "Now can we get back to work?"

He shook his head and leaned as close as he could get over the center console of the car. "I am never going to leave you, ever," he spoke firmly. his eyes fixed on hers, a promise burning its oath into her soul. "If I even tried...I would die, you know that?" He cupped her face, then, both hands holding her. "I'm not going anywhere. And this...whatever this is, whatever it's been and whatever it's going to be...I'm seeing it through."

"El, that's not..." she pulled at his wrists, peeling him away from her. "What am I supposed to do? Huh? I don't trust any of them! Not a single one!" She squinted a bit. "Did any of them call to see how you were? Did anyone give a fuck about you being in therapy, or struggling with the guilt...do any of them know what the fuck you've been going through?"

She watched him shake his head and she scoffed. "I get bitched at for bringing you up, I get dirty looks when I mention your name or ask where they are on the internal investigation because there is so much about that night that makes no fucking sense! And to top it off, Cragen hired these two complete...morons...and I can't get any fucking work done because all I can think about...all I want is you!"

"You have me," he whispered, but she didn't hear him.

She just stared at him and continued. "I can't go back there, I don't belong there anymore. I don't belong anywhere without you, and that...that's what terrifies me the most. I've been with you so long...I don't know how things work without you, and I'm not saying I think you're going anywhere or that you're just gonna decide you don't want me anymore, I'm pretty sure you won't, but when this case ends, and I have to go back there..."

He kissed her, quieting her, running his tongue along the seam of her lips, begging for acceptance.

She obliged, clutching his head as if it was the only think keeping her from dying. She moaned softly, nipped and pulled at his lips, tangled their tongues.

She would never admit how grateful she was that he chose that moment to kiss her. She was about to go down a road she wasn't yet ready to navigate.

He gasped, kissing her harder as he felt her left hand move toward his crotch, running over his hardened cock. He groaned and shifted closer. He worked the snap on her pants open and pushed his right hand down into them.

She gasped, then moaned his name softly. Inwardly, she knew she needed this more as a distraction from the emotions she was beginning to extol, but she also needed him to make her feel them.

He wiggled his fingers into her cotton panties, then through her wetness, tightness. He cursed as he kissed her and they both chuckled as she raked her nails over his denim-covered erection, sending shivers coursing through him.

She gripped tightly then, her teasing stopped, as it became clear he only had one goal in mind; he added another finger into the mix and thrust them, twisting.

He moved his hand fast, his fingers bending and crooking inside of her. "Liv," he breathed hotly against her lips. "Come on. Please. Let go.

She whimpered, knowing he meant so much in so few words. She kissed him deeply, one hand clutching the door handle and the other clutching him, her hips rocking hard against his rapidly thrusting hand. She did let go, then, losing control. She screamed his name into his mouth and clung to him almost desperately. "Oh my God," she exhaled, trembling. "You're one helluva kisser, Stabler," she panted, pulling away, still shocked. "What was...where did that..."

He laughed and kissed her again. "You started it."

She rolled her eyes as he pulled his hand from her pants and snapped them shut. She kissed him once more and reaching for the door handle.

He rubbed his nose against hers playfully. "Don't go," he whispered, then, a grave quality in his softened voice.

"I have to, El, they're out there waiting for...:"

"I mean...don't go back." He took in a sharp breath when she snapped her head toward him. "Who says this needs to be just one case? You just said...you don't work right without me. I don't work so good without you. I... I can't breathe without you, let alone do this job!" He lowered his voice. "I can't even make it to a crime scene without needing to feel you, feel how much you want me, how much I want you. We deserve a fresh start, don't we? What's it gonna take, huh? What do I have to do to convince you that..." He stopped for a moment, wondering if he should say the words he tried to say that morning. "...I love you."

She didn't breathe. She didn't blink. She stared at him, stone still, and in a single blurred rush, she got out of the car and slammed the door behind her.

_**Please, feel free to review. **_

_**Peace and Love**_

_**Jo**_


	7. Let It Burn 7

**_Part 7: Interconnection_**

**_Law and Order: SVU is the intellectual property of Dick Wolf. The use of the characters, settings, and plotlines is not malicious. This is a work of fiction._**

She had been the consummate professional; nothing snarky or cynical, nothing flirtatious or humorous. They were in the squad room waiting for a call from the medical examiner, and she could feel him staring at her, which is why she refused to look at him at all.

She was terrified of what she would see in his eyes. Of what he would see in hers. She bit her lip, hard, over and over, as she gazed at a black streak on the grey tiled floor. Her mind raced, flashing back through a Rolodex of memories she'd shared with him. How many times had he told her he loved her? How many times had she ignored it?

_"__Before you and Kathy had kids, did you ever wonder how they were going to turn out?" It isn't something she wanted to talk about, him and Kathy, but given the evening they'd had, she wanted to know. There was something in her that needed to hear about his hopes and wishes for fatherhood, and something in her that regretted she wasn't the one to share that with him._

_"All the time," he said with a sad smile. He looked at her and couldn't help thinking that she would be an amazing mother, and he promised himself, one way or another, he would make her one. He forgot about Kathy, and he narrowed his eyes trying to picture what a child with Olivia's hair and smile and his own eyes and ears would be like. "I still do."_

_She sighed, shaking off the notion that, one day, she might know first hand what his kids would grow up to be, and she choked back the cry in her throat as she promised herself she would never bring her own child into her dark, dangerous world. "At least you know what you're passing on…" she paused, then grabbed her jacket off of her chair. "... half my genes are drunk and the other half are violent and cruel." She turned away from him with a bitter grin, resolution sinking in. Her life had no room for family. No room for unconditional love. _

_His heart broke. It ripped him apart that, despite his efforts, she still couldn't see how set apart she was. Hadn't he spent countless nights and endless days proving to her how incredible she was? "And look how great you turned out…" he spoke. His words stopped her, and when she turned around his breath hitched. He saw it in her eyes, she loved him as much as he loved her. He swallowed and held her gaze briefly. "It's not all about the genes, Liv, all you can do is love..." he stopped himself. It was the middle of the night after the day from hell, and she would definitely run. "... your kids."_

_She tried to smile hoping he couldn't see the need to cry in her eyes. "Goodnight." She turned away before her first tear fell, and she wondered what he would say when he showed up at her apartment that night, and what she would let herself hear. _

A buzzing noise snapped her out of her reverie, and she looked around the room, annoyed. She sighed, rubbing her temples in an attempt to ward off the oncoming headache. She got out of her chair, headed over to the back of the room to make herself a cup of strong, hot tea, and she let herself get lost in thought again, to the one moment she remembers desperately trying to tell him how she felt, the only way she knew how.

_"What the hell just happened?" he asked, stunned, confused, and wanting nothing more than to wrap his partner in his arms and kiss her. He couldn't. Not here. Not now. _

_She smirked at him. Eventually, she would tell him everything. She would tell him what she went through for him, and what she put herself through for his family. For now, she settled on saying something that would reach him, deep. "Maybe God remembered how cute you were as a carrot."_

The pain and heat filling her chest ripped her back to reality, and she looked down and cursed. "Shit," she spat, grabbing the nearest napkin. Her tea had fallen out of her hands when she realized just how much she really did echo his sentiments, and how badly she hated herself for it.

"Liv," he gasped, running over to help her. "We have to get this off before you get seriously burned, here," he said, frantically pulling at the buttons of her shirt, for once not anticipating yanking the rest of her clothes off as well. He reached for more napkins and gently dabbed at her collar bones, her neck, and finally the dip in her chest.

"El, you should..." she cleared her throat. When his eyes met hers, she offered a small smile. "Really?"

He raised an eyebrow, then looked back down. "Oh," he said. "Fuck, I...I didn't think I just...I didn't want anything to happen to you so I..."

"It's okay," she laughed. "There's a tee shirt in my bag. Can you..."

"Yeah," he interrupted, darting to her desk. He rifled around in her bag for a moment, then brought the dark blue tee shirt over to her. "I, um...I'll just...uh..." He stood on an angle while he helped her change, shielding her from any roving eyes that might peek into the room while his own were glued to her form. "Fucking gorgeous, you know you are."

She rolled her eyes. "No," she shook her head.

He inhaled, then said, "Look, this morning...in the car I...I shouldn't have just said it like that." He scratched his head with one hand as the other aided in pulling the blue cotton down over the waistband of her pants. He grinned, then, and said, "This is mine."

She laughed and gave him a slightly naughty stare. "Yeah." She folded her arms. "What did you just say, though? You're sorry you said it?"

"Yes," he said, shoving his hands in his pockets. "Well, no, I...I'm just sorry I said it like that, I know you..."

"You're taking it back, now?" she fumed, not even sure where the anger was coming from, but knowing she couldn't help feeling it. "Are you fucking kidding me, Elliot?"

He raised both brows and pointed at her, amazed. "Now, hold on! You're the one who never wanted me to say it in the first place! You're the one keeping me at arms length here, putting a stopper in...whatever this is!" He waved a hand between them.

"Whatever this..." her eyes were wide, her jaw dropped. "You can't be..."

"You have been fighting me off for years," he hissed, interrupting her. "Every time I tried to make this more than some way to get our rocks off, or a good fuck! Whenever I tried to tell you...bring up what I was feeling you just...pushed me away!"

"You were getting too fucking close!" she yelled back, thankful no one else was in the room. She knew what happened when they pushed each other this hard.

"Yeah?" he asked roughly, before grabbing her and throwing her up against the wall. "How's this for too fucking close?" He held her arms down as he crushed against her, pressing his entire body into hers as he kissed her. Their teeth gnashed together, he bit and tugged at her lips, and he moaned when he felt her clawing at his back.

She moaned back, but her senses came back suddenly, reminding her where they were, and she moved her hands to his chest, reveling in the kiss just a moment more before shoving him back. "El, you know what I meant." She moved out from between him and the wall and started making another cup of tea.

He rubbed his face and took a breath. "I get it, okay?" he said, softer, and he stepped toward her.

"Get what?" she said back, turning to him with cold eyes, but she mirrored him and took a step closer. It was her brain and her heart playing tug-of-war with the rest of her body.

"I understand why you don't think you can do this, with me, but for fuck's sake, we are running out of time." He shrugged, as if giving up. "I have been waiting for this...for you...for the chance to really be..." he couldn't find the words. "...for twelve fucking years. I finally get the balls to say the three words you've been terrified of, I spent all day thinking I ruined what we had because you weren't ready, and now you're pissed off because you think I was taking it back? Make up your fucking mind, Liv, please! Either give me something, say something, tell me you..." he stopped, he closed his eyes, and he took a trembling breath. He knew asking her to say it was wrong. "Or just...go."

Her heart stopped. Her brain froze. She knew this moment would come when she would have to face the cold, hard facts of the affair becoming the relationship she'd longed for, for every silent promise they'd made to each other to come to light and finally be kept. She looked at him, wondering which was more prominent in his face, hope or fear. Love, she knew, outshined them all.

She reached up, both her shaking hands brushing along his cheeks, her thumbs swiping along the skin under his eyes and over his lips. She flipped a coin in her mind, and she allowed herself to move slowly, giving him one small, short kiss. Then she pulled away, turned her back on him, and sat back in her seat.

"That's it?" he asked her, walking toward her desk, his heart shattering with every step. He watched her pick up the phone and dial a number. "You're just gonna..."

Her raised hand told him to stop talking, and she spoke. "Fin? Yeah, I know you've been calling. I...no, I'm not done here, so I...shut up! Listen to me! I need you to do something. For me, for you, all of us. Just do it, okay?" She looked at Elliot, trying her damnedest to tell him everything with her eyes. "Can you clear out my desk?"

**_Please, feel free to review._**

**_Peace and Love_**

**_Jo_**


	8. Let It Burn 8

**_Part 8: Rawness_**

**_Law and Order: SVU is the intellectual property of Dick Wolf. The use of the characters, settings, and plotlines is not malicious. This is a work of fiction._**

"That's it," he said, tossing the yellow file folder onto his desk and leaning back in his chair. He sighed and said, "Case closed." He knew what that meant, but he tried not to dwell on it and closed his eyes for a moment. "I can't help thinking..." he paused and sunk lower in his chair. "None of this would have happened if she'd kept her own child instead of giving it up for..." he opened his eyes and looked at Olivia. "You know what I'm saying, I mean...she made her husband kill people to take their kids, I didn't mean adopting was a bad thing, or...I know you tried a while back and I'm not saying..."

"Do me a favor?" she looked over her desk at him. When he nodded she said, "Shut up."

He sighed and visibly softened, watching her.

She returned his sigh, but didn't show any signs of relaxing the way he had done. Something in the way he moved, the words he had said, reminded her of a painful moment that she'd pushed to the back of her mind, a conversation she tried like hell to forget. Until now.

_Elliot stared at her, his hand on the key in the ignition of the car, but he couldn't bring himself to turn it. Not yet. "You know," his breath caught in his lungs, and he wondered if he should stop talking, but he knew she needed to hear what he had to say. "You'd make a great mom."_

_"Oh, my God," she looked up at the peeling and torn roof of the car. She asked herself what she did to deserve the torture he was putting her through. "I'm not having this conversation." She couldn't look at him. She wanted kids, he knew that, and she was actually surprised that with all their stolen moments, in all their transgression, the fertile Elliot Stabler hadn't yet knocked her up. _

_He eyed her, reaching slowly for her hand, but pulled back when she crossed her arms and closed herself off, like she had a habit of doing. "You're great with kids." His kids, he meant. He'd watched over the years as her love for his own children blossomed, how they began to think of her as almost a second mother, or at least a close aunt. He squeezed his eyes shut as he pushed the most impure thought he'd ever had about his partner to the back of his mind and shifted in his seat._

_"Yeah, I know," she said softly, listening to him jiggle the key, bringing the engine of the car to life. She still ignored his attempts at getting her attention. She didn't want to see what she knew was evident in is eyes._

_Elliot shifted into drive and pulled away from the curb. "Look, maybe you should start thinking about having kids." Both his cock and his heart twitched with the thought of being the one to help her do just that. He cleared his throat, and to drive his point home, he said, "And any way you wanna do it I'd support you." He wanted to support her, the child, the family he wanted to give her. _

_Tears stung the backs of her eyes, her heart shattered knowing that what she wanted more than anything in the world was the one thing he couldn't give her, no matter what sort of meaningless promises he made. She shook off the emotions and heartache and narrowed her eyes. "Elliot, do me a favor?"_

_His heart stopped. Whatever she'd ask him, whatever she demanded of him, he would willingly give her. "What?"_

_"Shut up and drive."_

She heard his throat clear and felt her consciousness being tugged out of the past. She focused her eyes on a coffee stain on her desk blotter, her lip caught between her lips as she finally understood what he'd been saying to her. What he had truly meant, and how certain he was that it would be what she wanted. What she needed. "How long..."

"Only a few more minutes, as soon as this thing is done printing, we can..."

"No," she shook her head and looked at him, meeting his eyes for the first time in hours. She couldn't bare to look at him after she got a phone call from Cragen, telling her there was no way in hell he would sign her transfer forms until someone else volunteered for the unit. "I mean...I was just sitting here, thinking about...something...El, how long have you known?"

He cocked his head to the side, looking at her like a confused puppy. "Known what? Have you heard anything I've said to you in the last ten minutes? Because I wasn't..."

"How long have you known I..." the words were on the tip of her tongue, but saying it made it real, and she was already preparing to run from him, she didn't need the starting pistol to fire prematurely. "That I wanted..." she mentally chided herself for having so much difficulty with this one expression; she had a BA in English for fuck's sake, communication was her thing. "That this was never really just sex." She patted herself on the back for finding a way to say it without any real emotional commitment.

He took a deep breath and got up to retrieve the documents from the printer and on his way back he stopped at her desk and sat on the edge. He scratched the back of his neck and pressed his lips together. "Knew, or hoped?"

"I don't know," she shrugged, looking up at him. "Both."

"I always hoped..." he stopped, not wanting to sound like a hopeless romantic, but not wanting to sound like a complete asshole either. "I know the first few times...yeah, I'll say it, we fucked. Like fucking rabbits. We still do," he laughed. "But, uh, I think...that night...after Plummer..." he coughed, the memory both incredible and excruciating making it hard to breathe. "It took three times, ya know, going up and down your hallway, knocking on your door."

"Persistent mother fucker," she said with a small laugh, finally relaxing.

"The way you yelled at me when you finally let me in, it was...hot. Scary, but hot. Then you...I'd never seen you cry like that," he whispered, recalling the night in detail as he spoke. "God, I just...I just wanted to hold you forever." He swallowed hard and took another deep inhalation. "We got a lot out of our systems that night, you and me. I told you why I had you tailed, you told me why you didn't want me to take your statement, and we..." he stopped again.

"We...what, El?" she asked; he had stopped mid-sentence and hadn't moved.

He smiled. "It wasn't fucking that night," he barely spoke. "Not for me. It hadn't been for a while, if I'm being honest here, but that night..." he shook his head and reached for her, taking her chin in his hand and steadying his sight on her. "Please, tell me it wasn't just comfort. Tell me that night was more than making you forget."

Fucking hell, she thought to herself, feeling wetness pool in her eyes. She blinked away the tears, but he held her face so firmly she couldn't look away. She didn't trust her voice, so she just nodded. "You knew, then, so why..."

"Come on, Liv," he chuckled indignantly as he lightly pushed her away and dropped his hand from her chin. "I was married, you were stubborn as fuck. Knowing is one thing, but actually letting myself realize it would have been dangerous. For both of us." He crossed his arms. "If I had said anything...asked anything back then, you would have put an end to everything and I would have never been able to touch you, kiss you...love you...again." His eyes matched hers in moisture levels, then, but he wasn't ashamed to feel. Not anymore. As a tear slipped down his cheek he cocked his head to his right and tried to smile. "I couldn't live with that."

She stood up, then, and cupped his face in her hands. She almost cringed when he slipped his hands around her hips, letting his fingers sneak under the hem of the tee shirt she was wearing. She tried to repress the fear, the urge to give him a shove and run like the wind, and she looked into his eyes. She wiped away the rolling tear on his chin, and she said, "Me either."

"We...we don't have to worry about that," he said it firmly, but it was a question. He gripped her tighter, his fingertips marking the olive skin at her hips. "Ever. Do we?"

"Ever?" she sniffled, and then slid her hands down his neck to his chest, curling her fingers around the loose silk of his shirt. "I can't promise..."

"Liv," he almost whined, his eyes were pleading and he knew she could feel the trembling of his fingers at the small of her back. "After all this time, you can't give me that?"

She bit her tongue behind her closed lips, and she pulled out of his hold but kept her hands on his shirt. She tugged, asking him silently to move with her, and she traveled backward toward the door to the homicide units cribs.

Wordlessly, he turned the knob once her back hit the door, and he kicked it closed after he'd followed her into the dark room. He toppled onto her when she landed on the nearest bunk, and he struggled to control himself. "What are we doing, if you're not..."

She stopped him with a kiss, a soft one, with closed lips. She continued to peck at him, sweet kisses along his jawline, as she tugged off his tie and dropped it to the floor beside the bed. She trailed her short endearments down his neck and latched on, feeling a vein throb under her mouth as she plucked open the buttons of his shirt.

With weak, unsteady breath, he moved, pushing the tee shirt that once belonged to him up her body and dragging it off over her head. He shrugged out of his shirt and began working on getting her dark pants down over her hips without ever once taking his eyes off of hers. He felt his fingertips burn as they caressed her body, every inch, slowly, as he moved and peeled away her layers.

She tried to keep from shaking as she unbuckled his belt, and she got lost in the way he was gazing at her as she shoved his slacks off of him. Her eyes fluttered shut when he bent his head, and she murmured his name quietly when she felt him kissing her neck.

He worked one hand beneath her and unclipped her tea-stained bra, freeing her from the white satin. He pulled, feeling her maneuver out of it completely, and he threw it over his head. His fingers grazed her sides as they headed toward her nipples. He barely brushed his open palms over them as he continued the incursion on her neck. He heard her gasp, heard the way she cried his name softly, and he fought back tears.

"El," she breathed, shifting beneath him. Writhing, she bucked her hips, and her hands moved along his musculature, coming to a full stop at his ass. She splayed her palms over his heated skin and then curled her fingers, begging for him.

He let her flesh fall out of his mouth, a rainbow of purples and blues already forming where his lips had been. He raised himself up, using the lumpy mattress as leverage, and he peered down at her. "Liv?"

"Yeah," she nodded, her voice wavering with emotion. She didn't blink, not once, as his eyes remained trained on hers while he angled his hips over her body and thrust, pushing into her, sliding home. Her nails dug into the cheeks of his ass and she moaned when the muscles in her hands clenched.

He rocked, slowly, deliberately dragging out inch by inch before easing into her again, making sure they could both feel every sensation passing between them, physical and emotional. It was the most intense experience of his life, and every memory of almost losing her flashed past his open eyes. Every close call, every bullet and blade wound that almost took her from him, every fight and undercover op, every fear and doubt that tried to push them apart. He was determined to keep her now. "Never again," he promised out loud.

"What?" she asked on a moan.

"I'm never...I can't lose you again," he told her, and then he kissed her hard and moved with more purpose, his powerful legs and strong thighs working harder, making him thrust into her like a locomotive piston.

"El," she gasped, dragging her nails up his spine, knowing she was either scratching him deeply or breaking the skin. "Never." She wasn't completely certain the word that escaped on a gutteral moan had actually been spoken, but she knew that the places he was now hitting, both body and heart, meant it.

He back up a bit, then pressed his forehead to hers. He moaned her name and whispered promises between kisses, as his rigid body worked harder to bring her to the absolute brink of bliss; a place he had vowed to bring her, and keep her. He felt his entire body start to slip against hers, sweat beading at every joint and juncture. He moved his hands, letting himself fall further onto her, pressing into her as closely as he could. He kissed her hard, gripping the side of her face, and when he felt her clenching and heard how quick and sharp her panting cries had become, he knew he wouldn't last much longer. He brushed her nose with his, brought his lips perilously close to hers, and spoke so that she could feel what he was saying against her partly opened mouth. "I love you."

Her back arched as the words hit her ears. She kissed him, her hands flying to the back of his head holding him down to her. She scratched his scalp and neck violently and her body convulsed beneath his and the tears she'd been holding back all night leaked out of the corners of her eyes. She felt him still inside of her and he cursed and grunted into her mouth as he came, with her, for her, because of her.

He stayed right where he was, twitching and pulsing, giving her everything he had in as many ways as was possible. He peppered her with small kisses as she had done when this began, and he felt her heartbeat through her chest, against his. He licked her lips, brushed back her dampened hair, and gazed longingly and lovingly down at her flushed face. He grazed her left cheek with the back of his hand, his knuckles wiping away a light sheen of sweat and the remains of tears. "You didn't run that time," he breathed, a soft laugh escaping as his body gave one more hard throb.

She reached up, more thoroughly sated and spent than she ever had been, physically and emotionally. "No," she whispered, turning her head a bit to kiss his fingers, which were still resting on her cheek.

He felt his heart thump as he watched and felt her lips kiss the pad of every finger on his right hand. "No?"

She looped her arms around his neck and let them fall limply, relying on his shoulders for support. She never made promises. She never made commitments. But after everything that had happened that day, she was more sure about the vow she was about to make than she'd ever been about anything. "No more running. Not from you, El."

It took a few breaths for her words to sink in, for the realization to settle, and when it did the relief flooded him wholly. They weren't the words he wanted to hear, not precisely, but he knew what it took for her to make him that promise. He brushed his lips over hers before pulling her up off of the bed and wrapping her body around his, cradling her. He kissed her deeply, unsure of what the morning would bring.

_**Reviews are welcome. Thank you for reading. **_

_**Peace and Love**_

_**Jo**_


	9. Let It Burn 9

_**Part 9: boldness**_

_**Law and Order: SVU is the intellectual property of Dick Wolf. The use of the characters, settings, and plotlines is not malicious. This is a work of fiction.**_

Something was different tonight. He felt different.

Maybe it was because of the panic and nausea that set in when he walked into work without her.

Maybe it was because of the two bottles of antacid he downed, throughout the day, having to stare at the empty desk across from her.

Maybe it was because of the long-buried memories the day spent working his new case alone had dug up. The same memories that were replaying now, as he lost focus and his vision blurred in the smoke and haze of the bar.

_The way she looked at him, hopeful and afraid. He knew she was wondering if this would be the moment the truth came out. He knew, because he was wondering the same thing. _

_She folded her arms, glaring at him. "Is there something you want to say to me? Because if you do, then let's hear it." Please, she thought. Please, say it, save me._

_No, he thought bitterly. He was not going to be the first to crack. He had to get her to say it first. Assure him. "Why didn't you shoot Gitano?"_

_She was taken aback. She swallowed the lump in her throat, and she struggled to find an excuse. Any excuse that wasn't the truth. "He was using the child as a shield."_

_"How could you let him get so close to you?" he asked, more out of fear and guilt than anger. He could see the bandage on her neck and the sight made him crazy. The thought hit him, if it had only been an inch more...he stopped himself from fully realizing it. It made him want to pull her in his arms and fuck her like it was the last night he had on the earth, promising her the world, giving it to her. He almost lost her, and his mind and heart were no longer functioning. _

_"There were innocent civilians around." She balked, she babbled, she fought away the tears. " I couldn't get a shot." Anything but the truth, anything and everything. If she gave enough reasons, the truth wouldn't matter. _

_He was pissed at her. Why wouldn't she just say it. Admit it. To him, to herself. " Well, you got close, and Ryan's dead." But it could have been her and he wouldn't have been able to survive. _

_Her heart broke. Why was he saying all of this now? Shouldn't they be making each other forget? In a warm bed where the tears would be absorbed, or a shower where they would just be washed away. " So this is my fault?" She couldn't breathe. _

_"I can't do this anymore." He blurted it out without thinking. He hadn't been able to think clearly since he'd seen her crumple in the train station. " I can't be looking over my shoulder making sure you're okay!" It wasn't right, he thought. He shouldn't be constantly worried about her, worried about losing her. He didn't have the right. She wasn't his to lose._

_"You son-of-a-bitch," she fumed, her nostrils flared, and she took a bold step toward him. "Yyou know that's not true!" She knew the truth, they both did, and deep down she knew what he was doing. But why now?_

_He tried to soften his voice and take her hands, take her into his arms, take her up against a wall, but there were people watching. Waiting. " I need to know you can do your job and not wait for me to come to the rescue!" He looked into her eyes, and the unspoken follow up sentence was communicated clearly. _

_One day, he wouldn't be there._

_His eyes followed her trembling body as she walked away, and that night she told him she would talk to Cragen, maybe they needed to see if they could work alone rather than risk anything like that ever happening again. People already thought they were fucking, they would never be able to come out unscathed if certain people knew it was true. _

_He sighed, and he knew she was right. It was too obvious now, and they had been so careful until now. He grazed her bandage as he pulled her off the couch and he cried. He told her he wouldn't have known what to do if...but her kiss stopped his words. _

_He brought her into the shower, where their tears and their sins were washed away. Then he brought her to bed where unspoken promises were made while others were broken, and everything changed._

_He woke up and she was gone. Her letter, left on her abandoned pillow, tore his soul to pieces. She was leaving the unit, and leaving him, until they figured out who they were without each other._

_Going into work without her killed him, and he did a lot of stupid things without her by his side, giving him stability. He had a string of partners he couldn't stand. It was torture working without her, having to bounce between the station, his house in Queens, and Olivia's apartment. Something he whispered in her ear one night must have finally sunk in, because one night, a night he wasn't expecting it, he looked into the empty seat across from his, and he felt time come to a complete standstill_

_"What are you doing here?" he asked, hiding the relief and joy in his voice, masking it with confusion._

_She smirked as she looked up at him. "I work here," she said, matter-of-factly. She was back, thank God, and she rebuilt his world, making it whole again. _

_And then it came crashing down again a few months later. _

_He had walked into the squad room like he always had, grinning like a devil with two cups of coffee. He put one on his partners desk, and he froze. His heart stopped. He was pretty sure he died, then and there. "No," was all that came out of his mouth as he stared with intensity at the empty desk, the empty chair. "No," he repeated, looking at his captain. Cragen shrugged and walked away. _

_He felt the bile rise up from his stomach through his chest, into his throat, and he picked up the phone. He could feel what was left of his life drain from his body when he heard the out-of-service message. It didn't change, no matter how many times a day he called. It hurt like hell, that second time. He'd only just gotten her back when she was ripped away again. He wasn't the same around people without her, not at all, but he managed to wait until he was alone to cry. _

He shook his head, refusing to dwell on things he couldn't change anymore than he already had. He rubbed his eyes, and refocused them, his vision clearing despite the smoke stinging at his eyes. He smirked, then, staring at the toned, round ass of the only woman who could break him, and he growled as he watched that ass shimmy a bit, a foot away from him.

She looked over her shoulder at him, winked, and drew her right hand backward, then driving it forward, the cue stick in her hand sending the white ball straight into the black one, which, in turn, rolled off and fell into a netted pocket. She straightened up, tossed the stick on the pool table, and held out her hand.

A tall, muscular man slapped three hundred dollar bills into her open palm, shaking his head in disbelief. "Didn't even get a single shot in," he muttered as he bent down to re-rack the balls.

She shoved the cash into her pocket then turned to the man she knew had been staring at her. "El," she said with narrow eyes, pulling him by the hand up off the bench. "Come with me."

He chuckled, shaking his head and licking his lips. He walked with her toward the bar and had just opened his mouth to order when he was pushed quite roughly onto a stool. "What are you..." again, he was shut up, but this time it was with the rind end of a lime wedge. His eyes widened when Olivia looped one leg over his right thigh. He felt her heat through his jeans and he moaned.

Olivia grinned, watching his blue eyes darken as she reached for the salt shaker and a shot glass. She moved her knee higher, rubbing it against his growing, hardening erection. She laughed as he tried to speak around the lime in his mouth. She yelped, though, when he grabbed her leg and pulled, hard, bringing it around his body.

He nodded triumphantly, satisfied that she was now straddling him fully. His hands rubbed the thin leather of her pants concealing her ass, then he slapped her hard and gripped tight, staring up into her eyes.

She bit her lip and chuckled, then bent her head. She rocked against him, aching for him, feeling him grow and twitch against her. She heard him growl in her ear, then he moaned as she licked his neck.

He groaned her name behind the lime and bucked up, wishing the clothes between them would disappear and he could feel her around him. Soon, he thought, as he felt the grains of salt cover the thin trail of wetness she'd left on his neck.

She felt his cock twitch again, loving the reactions her boldness was earning. She looked down, held his gaze as she downed a dark brown shot, the first and only drink of the evening since one of them was on-call, and bent her head to lick his salty skin again.

He was quick and he spit the lime out onto the sticky bar floor below, and when she kissed him, he dug his fingers into the cheeks of her ass. He assaulted her mouth, nipped at her tongue and bit her lips, all the while keeping her pressed against him as he thrust upward unabashedly.

She moaned into his mouth, then whispered against his lips, "If you don't stop..."

"You started it," he told her, not for a moment ceasing his lewd conduct.

She cursed as her eyes rolled into the back of her head before slamming her lips over his again.

He growled and squeezed his eyes shut and kissed her back as hard and as deeply as he could. He bit and tugged her bottom lip then slapped her ass again as he pulled away. "I need to breathe," he chuckled before taking a breath. He looked at her and slipped his hands up her back, around her neck, and cupped her face. "What's with you tonight?" He kissed her. "Not that I'm complaining."

She brushed her nose against his, scraping her nails against his scalp and his neck. "You."

"Not yet," he joked, smirking. "Damn leather pants are in the way." He kissed her and brushed his thumbs over her skin.

"Last night..." she whispered, "...in the cribs. Everything you said, and didn't say." She blinked once and dropped her forehead to his and bucked against him one last time before stopping and calming. "I'm here. I'm yours." She winked. "Doesn't mean we have to let the fire burn out, does it? We can still..."

They both rolled their eyes as a phone rang and buzzed. "Answer it," she said glumly, before moving her lips to his neck and suckling at his pulse.

He moaned and lifted the phone to his ear. "Stabler. Me? Now? But it's...yeah, okay, but I...yeah, I know where Benson lives, what kind of..." He stopped, he listened, and he looked at her. He saw the gleam in her eyes and he said into the phone, "We'll be right there."

He hung up and looked at her. "How did you get Cragen to let you..."

"I didn't," she interrupted with a shrug. She slid off of him, reached into his pocket, and let her fingers tease his still-hard cock before grabbing his keys. "What have we got, partner?"

He smirked, and the image of her fucking him hard in the old red sedan flashed through his mind, another memory that made his heart stop. "Partner?"

"I told you, El," she said with narrow, seductive eyes, "I'm yours."

He followed her through the crowd, out of the bar, his eyes zoned in on her fucking perfect ass, but he couldn't help wondering what strings she had to pull to get transferred.

_**Reviews are welcome**_

_**Peace and Love**_

_**Jo**_


	10. Let It Burn 10

_**Part 10: Inevitable**_

_**Law and Order: SVU is the intellectual property of Dick Wolf. The use of the characters, settings, and plotlines is not malicious. This is a work of fiction.**_

"That was…" she shook her head and chugged back a cup of black tea. She sighed and looked at him, over her shoulder, knowing he was there. "El, now, you know I…" she stopped, the words were so close to spilling forth, she was ready. She felt her throat dry out and she quickly poured and drank another cup of hot tea from her carafe. "If I'm willing to face that kind of shit every day just to be able to work with you, it's gotta mean something right?"

He hummed affirmatively, then rested both of his strong hands on her shoulders. He squeezed, working out the tension he felt keeping her muscles hostage. "I know what it means." He closed his eyes and lowered his head, kissing the crown of her's, and he inhaled deeply, letting her scent waft into treasured memories.

"What are you thinking about?" she asked, peering again over her shoulder, resisting the urge to kiss his knuckles. "You're too quiet."

He sighed again, rested his chin on the top of her head, and let his hands move from her shoulders to around her body, holding her as he lost himself in their history.

_He was about to tell her something, something very important, when the medical examiner sauntered up to their table. He eyed her suspiciously; no one was supposed to know where they were. _

_Melinda handed Olivia a folder and babbled something about their case, and Olivia took it with an unsure expression on her face. "Am I gonna be able to finish my lunch?"_

_Elliot chuckled, then held his breath as he watched Olivia open the file. He saw her eyes change, and he hated the dark sadness that had pushed away the sparkle he loved. _

"_Yeah, there goes my lunch," Olivia said with a shudder, pushing her salad away from her. She glanced at Elliot, who shrugged and picked up her fork, shoveling her refused lettuce into his mouth. She couldn't help smiling, even if it was only slightly._

_He caught her eyes as he stabbed her forgotten tomato with the fork, knowing it had been in her mouth, but that's what they had between them. No fears. No secrets. Except one._

"Just thinking," he told her quietly, "That we got to this place...with us...but it's not really new, is it? It's just...different. Better. Stronger."

"I think we were pretty damn strong before," she quipped, putting her mug down on the table in front of her. Her hands fell to her waist, her fingers twisted and entwined with his. She let her head drop backward against his chest, and her eyes closed for a moment as his cologne and personal aroma filtered into her lungs, bringing her back to a moment she could remember almost telling him...almost letting it slip. But changing her mind.

_She knew he'd been staring at her all day. She knew why. She couldn't take her eyes off of him, either. She was afraid he'd disappear, like she had, but she turned from him and looked through the glass, toward the remains of a case gone bad. "You know," she said, breaking the silence between them, "We've been partners all these years. I don't even know your blood type."_

_He gave her an inquisitive look. He knew hers; he begged Cragen to tell him. He could have sworn she knew his. "A-positive." He watched the smirk grow on her face and he wanted to run his tongue along every single curve and angle of her smile._

"_How 'bout that?" she said with a grin and what may be considered a wink. She knew, and the coincidence only made her heart swell, as if it had been fate all along. Maybe it was. "Me, too."_

_He smiled, then looked from her to the glass window, then back to her. He jerked his head and walked with her toward the elevator, thankful that both the case and the torture of being without her were over. He pushed the call button and looked at her, biting his lip. He couldn't help thinking how beautiful she looked, how badly he wanted to grab her by her long ponytail and crash his soul against hers, but now was not the time. It wasn't the place. God, he wanted to tell her. "I'd give you a kidney."_

_She choked, emotion swelling causing pressure in her chest. She looked away from him, trying to find the strength to tell him, but failing. She settled on, "Not if I gave you mine first." She looked at him with a sexy smirk, and the minute the metal doors closed she was pulled roughly into his arms, where she belonged._

"Liv," he said, nudging her.

Her eyes opened and she looked up at him. "Huh?"

"Where'd you go?" he asked, eye narrow, knowing she was thinking about something that made her happy; the smile on her face was miraculous.

"Nowhere," she replied, shaking her head. She turned, still in his arms, and smoothed her hands upward, resting her palms flat against his chest. "I've always been here. Right here."

He smiled and nodded, knowing what she meant. He raised both brows, then, and exhaled harshly. "I know I've been pushy lately," he began, "I've been trying like hell to force you to take chances that maybe you're not ready to take, but I'm waiting, okay? I'm not...you set the pace here, and I will keep your stride. I just...you walked away from a job you loved, that you put every ounce of your heart and soul into, to come poke at dead bodies and prod serial killers with me. And today, you held my hand the whole way from Tucker's office to this place, so I gotta ask...are you okay?" He tilted his head.

She laughed, but sighed and looped her arms around his neck. "Never better. I'm just...I'm safe now. This is…" she bit her lip. "I don't feel like you're just gonna slip away anymore. I'm more sure now than I have ever been, and I guess part of me…"

She didn't get to finish her sentence. His lips were on hers, muffling soft moans and any attempt at forming words she was still offering.

He pulled away and said, "That's...I needed to hear that, because for a while there, I thought we were going backwards and I thought…I was afraid that I was losing you. Again." He nudged her nose with his. "I know you had to go through hell to get Cragen to sign your forms, and you were by my side all day, but I just...I thought you'd...run." He shrugged. "I love you, you know I do, and I just...God, I really needed to hear that."

She looked into his eyes, staring for a long while, and she knew. There was something else he needed to hear much more. Something she desperately needed to say. It would change her world in ways she'd never imagined. It would start a passionate fire she knew in her heart would burn for the rest of her life, and she was ready, once and for all, to let it burn. She trailed her fingertips from the back of his neck up his jaw and cradled his face in her open, shaky hands, and she whispered, "I love you."

_**The End**_

_**Reviews are very welcome.**_

_**A new story is in the works. Thank you for reading this one.**_

_**Peace and Love**_

_**Jo**_


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